Five People Edward Cullen Has Killed
by nattylovesjordy
Summary: A story in Edward's POV about the five people whose deaths he had his hand in... Better summary inside. Rated T for use of language and violent content.
1. Roderick Jensen

_Author's Note: Hey, I'm Natty, and this is my first _Twilight_ fic, but not my first fic ever. I really hope you enjoy what I've written and that you share your thoughts or comments about it in a review. It's the only sort of payment that us authors get and I appreciate each one I receive. So a big thanks in advance. (I feel like Alice!)_

_About the Story:** (Important)** So, this is a fic in Edward's POV. It's basically him recalling some of the most memorable people he killed, these people being from the time when he strayed from Carlisle, ten years after his "birth." (Reference: Chapter 16 in _Twilight_, starting on page 341 and this particular bit ending on page 343). He's a bit... monstrous and ruthless at times, so beware. The last person, however, is an exception to what I've just shared... You'll see why. ALSO, when talking about mystery person number five will you find out where Edward is when he is searching through these memories, so you have to stay tuned to find out. (Although, I'm writing person five now, and so it won't be long). Equally as important, this started out as a one shot, but I decided to give a chapter to each person.. hence you only see on person here; Roderick Jensen. And this chapter is short... the other ones get longer.  
T for language and content. _

_And without further adieu (aka, no more long explanations), here it is..._

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**Five People Edward Cullen Has Killed: Chapter One: Roderick Jensen**

It was during my rebellious time--my "teenage years" as some members of my family like to call it--that I stalked and killed this rodent of a man. For eight nights I followed him, blood-thirsty, and watched him, through his thoughts, do despicable things. I listened and cringed at every muffled scream and bone snap that came from the innocent women he rapped, beat, and then left to die.

The ninth night, though... that's when it all ended. I wouldn't have any more of it. I watched, lurking in the shadows, as he walked out of a whore-house he was frequent at. With complete silence, I jumped in front of him the second the big, metal door slammed shut.

I dragged him by the throat to my hiding spot in the shadows, behind a large, filthy dumpster. The man--no, not man. He doesn't deserve such a title. The bastard of a man was too scared of me, unable to scream in protest or fear.

I weighed even more pressure on his throat. His heartbeat moved at an almost vampireistic speed.

I wasn't going to make this quick; no, he was going to suffer. It had been about ten years since I had been created, and ten years on animal blood just wasn't enough.

Slow enough for him to make out what I was doing, I pulled out my sharp razor and laughed under my breath. I could feel the venom in my eyes turning my eye color back to its natural blood red.

In a fashion meant to torment him, I held up one of the arms I pinned down with my iron grasp and brought the razor to his skin, stopping before I pierced it.

"This is for what you've done to all those women." I growled, not pausing before making a large cut on his forearm.

His face turned pale, his eyes wide. His pupils grew in fear.

I didn't let any of the blood go to waste. Slowly, in order to keep him some-what conscious, I sucked the blood gashing through the veins in his arm.

Finally, his heart stopped beating and his life was through; he wouldn't harm anymore women.

He was my first kill after leaving Carlisle and there was no guilt or remorse for my indulgence, breaking the rules.

No, instead I was prideful, basking in accomplishment of saving people, feeling the power surge through me.

I was almost as self-absorbed in that very moment as Rosalie.


	2. Carl Brandenburg

_Author's Note: Here's chapter two. This one is slightly longer than the last, but chapters two and three are when they start getting noticeably longer. I hope you enjoy reading this, and, if you do read this (which you clearly are), please review. I don't think I could thank you enough. (Well...)_

_Disclaimer: I forgot to say this last chapter... To my dismay, I do not own anything Twilight related. All that goes to Stephenie Meyer. Ex: Edward Cullen (although, my mind has different ideas about that), Carlisle, etc. I did, however, create Edward's victims and the other things un-recognizable._

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**Five People Edward Cullen Has Killed: Chapter Two: Carl Brandenburg**

Once again through my time of rebellion, I was burning of thirst, craving the very delicacy of human blood. The strength it gave me! I became absorbed in that strength and along with that obsession made my need for human blood more... crucial and much more often; no longer could I go weeks without hunting.

I was roaming the streets of the prematurely polluted city of Boston at the time, looking for another low life.

I suppose I didn't know it then, but subconsciously, I refused to feed on anyone innocent as my only way of pushing the guilt aside--the guilt of failing my father, Carlisle, of cheating, and of ending a human's life.

So I fed on criminals, wretched men who did rotten things without a single feeling of regret, instead getting off on their actions. _Monsters_.

And Carl Brandenburg was the perfect prey. His crime was the epitome of what I searched for.

I had heard through other men's thoughts that some animal of a person raped and beat his seven year old daughter. Seven years old. Once helpless and innocent, now scarred and corrupted, forced into a maturity and emotional process that no little child should have to go through.

And he ran away. The police were searching for him.

Unfortunately for him, I found him before the cops did. He didn't even stand a chance.

He was hiding out in some unsanitary hell hole of an apartment complex where the landlord turned a blind eye to criminals and whores.

Inconspicuously, I entered his room through the third story window. That alone scared him half to death. His heart's beating rate shot through the roof; one of the fastest heartbeats I had ever heard. I could see the heart's effect on the speed of the blood pumping through his veins. The veins I could easily spot through his skin, one of those vampire abilities.

"Ha." I chuckled under my breath, low enough so he couldn't quite hear.

"Who--What--?" The words overflowed from his mouth, his voice trembling in fear. He was one of my only victims that had enough time to speak.

Like the last piece of filth I rid the world of, I took him by the throat and threw him against a wall. Before he had the time to blink, I lunged at his throat, injecting my venom into his circulatory system. I watched him struggle for what seemed like a long while to him, feeling nothing short of triumphant. The pain inflicted by the venom wasn't taking long to cultivate; he was suffering almost immediately from it, his body experiencing convulsions of pain that no man would have thought possible. I didn't doubt that he was starting to burn, burn like I had thrown him into the fiery pits of hell--but even that might not cover the burning that consumed him in that short while.

I let a few pulses of blood spill over onto the floor for him to see before I indulged in it myself. The fire in the pit of my throat was greatly satisfied in the moment, a sort of frenzy beginning. I watched with pride as his body turned lifeless, pale. I let out an involuntary growl of satisfaction.

I leaped out the window, strength igniting my long dormant veins.


	3. Cathy Barnes

_Author's Note:__ I'm gonna give you a bit of a heads up; this chapter is more... gruesome than the two previous. There are some unpleasant thoughts, but it's all part of the story. (They get even better next chapter! Yum!) Feedback is still, as always, loved. Maybe if I get amazing feedback I can stop being sick! How beautiful that would be!_

_Disclaimer:__ As unfortunate as it is, I still am not Stephenie Meyer and I still own no part of Twilight other than my own copy of the books and what not. Even if my friend Kayla and I have split up the characters and decided who "owns" who, we don't technically own them... So depressing!_

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**Five People Edward Cullen Has Killed: Chapter Three: Cathy Barnes**

When I was walking around, searching through people's thoughts, I tended to avoid the women. It wasn't just that most of their thoughts were pure, but a real gentlemen didn't harm women and that characteristic stayed with me, even during my monstrous phase.

Until I read _her_ thoughts.

I had been walking by a river, aimlessly, in San Francisco. It was twilight--the safest time for my kind to be out. I was sitting in the branches of a large tree, overlooking the river and what I could see of the town far, far down the hillside. I was thirsty, but something about the way the way the moon and stars were reflected off the water as the current disrupted the perfect image calmed me.

I was alone in my thoughts until three other sets of thoughts joined mine. Two of the thoughts were incomprehensible and unintelligent--infant thoughts, I presumed. The other person's thoughts, though, were as clear as the night. Her intentions, how she was to escape, who she was going to become... there wasn't a single feeling in this woman's thoughts; she was seemingly pure evil.

Most people's thoughts have emotions, much like a person talks aloud. Emotions of joy, fear, elation, disappointment, regret, apathy--all different types. But this woman, her thoughts were ice-cold, emotionless. What she was planning to do! It was wretched.

No mother or woman otherwise would relish the thought of drowning her two twin sons, let alone actually acting on it.

But that was only part of it. The imaginative process of her mind saw everything to the point, nothing blurry or foggy. She was going to wrap a cloth around each child's mouth, as to suffocate them. Then she was to kneel down and place both kids face first into the shallow, murky water where the current doesn't move the water significantly, and press their bodies down into the water, forcing their lungs full of water. She wasn't going to let up on the babies until she felt their bodies stop resisting. Only then would she weaken her grip and let their bodies float down river.

That was step one. Step two involved her going back to her home to the husband she never wanted. Here she planned to proceed to the dresser in their room where he kept his pistol.

She envisioned herself shooting him in the thigh with an evil smile on her lips. No, she wasn't going to kill him, she just wanted to make him live with that pain, that memory, his whole life. She wanted him to remember her face, particularly her evil grimace in that last moment. She wanted to haunt him after she was gone. And if they were to ever run into each other later on in life, she wanted him to be scared shit-less. She wanted to see him turn ghost-white at the simple mention of her name, or every time her face intruded his thoughts.

I wouldn't--couldn't--let this inhumane woman carry out her plans. I had to spare those two boys and their father.

From her thoughts, I could tell that these two baby boys hadn't even been named.

She didn't qualify as human. She may have very well been the devil herself.

Finally, after waiting so long, the woman made it out from the trees of the surrounding forest, a child in each of her arms. She came close to where I was, edging towards the river. Once she was where I wanted her, I jumped from the tree and landed beside her. I jumped with enough force to make a sound, one that shook the ground.

Instead of being horrified, she turned and looked at me, her eyes stone cold and her face filled with hatred.

Neither of us moved, instead we stared at each other. She started to turn away, to carry on with her business, but before she had the chance, I grabbed the two sleeping infants from her arms, holding them close into my chest.

A hiss shot from her lips, her hands clawed at her side. I could hear her teeth grinding together, an atrocious sound, bone being sawed off. She had the attitude and reactions of a newborn vampire. Even her eyes were coal black.

Gone for no more than a second, I ran deep into the surrounding forest and left the boys there where they would be out of harms way.

She didn't stand a chance. She couldn't outrun me, she couldn't harm me. She and I both knew it.

With all the force in my body, I launched her body into a tree on the other side of the river. Before she had time to fall all the way down to the ground, I picked her up by the neck, my thumb applying pressure right below her jaw. Her body was weak, plush-doll-like, under my grip.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she twitched and convulsed all over. By her head's deformed shape I could tell that the impact of my throw shattered her skull into tiny fragments, if not dust. Her jaw no longer held its own and fell slack, her tongue flopping out along side it.

For good measure, I cracked her neck in two. I don't know how, but somehow she wasn't dead yet, despite her body's limp, broken state. She hadn't even screamed.

With a growl, I flashed my teeth, coated in the venom I was secreting, and I sunk my teeth into her neck, making sure to puncture and do a work on her _jugularis interna_ and her _jugularis externa_ (her internal jugular and her external jugular). The blood gushed between my sweet, welcoming lips like a water fountain's liquid flows into a human's mouth to quench the human thirsts. When I felt her heart beat slow, I quickly sucked the last quart or so of her blood and dealt with the body.

Instead of charring her, as I did to the rest, I tied her to a rock and dumped her in the river.

Not having forgotten, I rushed to the two boys. They were still sleeping (it's not like the killing process took me that long), not seeming to have heard anything. I took them in my arms and, after making sure I was presentable in the event that I should run into anyone, I returned them to their house which I had seen in their mother's thoughts.

Silently and quickly I placed them in their bassinets and left through the window, retreating into the dark of night, leaving no evidence of my existence.


	4. Glenn Haddix

_Author's Note: Hey! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! This story has been added to a commmunty (a C2)! Isn't that awesome!? I thought so! One more chapter after this, but I've been playing with some ideas for other _Twilight_ fics, so keep on a look out! (Although, those will probably be more upbeat and happy... unless I do something like this for Jasper...)  
Also, I did the math as to the years when this would be happening (by what I read in the books) and I concluded that it'd be happening around the late 1930s, early 1940s. I remembered that at some point in the thirties, prohibition was going on, and that's why I wrote that bars were illegal... _

_Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer and don't own the whole _Twilight_ franchise, which also means that I don't own the quote that is in the first paragraph of this chapter. (Reference: _Twilight_, Chapter Sixteen: Carlisle, page 343).__ I do, however, own the characters you don't recognize in this story and a fish named Koah Abob! Oh, and I own a Bible, but I don't take any claim to the Bible verse in this chapter... just to clear that up! Enjoy!_

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**Five People Edward Cullen Has Killed: Chapter Four: Glenn Haddix**

It was exactly as I had told Bella the day I properly introduced her to my family. The day I let her in on Carlisle's past as well as a portion of my own. "Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl--if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible." I had explained to her. And that was exactly what I had thought. It's exactly how I justified the killing of Glenn Haddix.

I had been walking in a darkened alleyway in the city, behind one of the many outlawed bars at the time. I was listening to the drunk men's thoughts absentmindedly, not really thinking, just doing, when I heard _his_ thoughts. They started off bitter, thinking of how much he hated his boss, a rich banker, for firing him. Soon, with alcohol as a severe catalyst, his thoughts got much more violent. He started imagining himself kicking dogs, randomly enough, and then of going home to his wife. He started yelling at his wife, blaming her unjustly for things, such as him getting fired, saying she wasn't supportive enough. I could see, through the other men's thoughts, him pounding his fists on the tables, smashing glasses. He was getting too out of hand too fast.

He smiled in anticipation and growing excitement of returning home and lashing out on his wife, making his two children, a young boy and girl, watch to teach them a lesson.

_"Mary," he imagined himself yelling pointedly, in his mind's sick dream, at that little, innocent girl. "This is what happens to a wife when she's not supportive to her husband." He slapped his wife whom he was holding up by the hair as she knelt on the ground. Her face was bruised and beaten, red all over from being assaulted. "You be a good girl, won't ya Mary?" His voice boomed. Mary was scared silent. Her lips were quivering in fear, verging on tears. "Mary!" He shouted again. "You answer me, you hear?"_

_Tears raced down the innocent girl's face as she looked from her mother to her father. "Yes," she whispered, afraid to get beat herself. _

_The little boy, clearly younger than Mary, slowly shifted himself so he was behind his sister. Her arm flew back to catch him, to hold him close to her back to let him know he was safe. Through her legs you could see the poor boy's knees wobbling, close to letting out beneath him. _

_"And you!" The father roared again. "You, son, need to be strong! You never let a woman treat you so horribly. Do you understand!?" He yelled the last part much louder than before. _

_The boy winced into the little girl's back, his face unseen. The father smiled, exuberant that he scared his son and daughter. The girl turned her face away as her father raised his hand up and quickly threw it back down in a punch to the two children's mother._

His thoughts were enough; there was no way I was going to allow that to happen. To think such things! Such horrible, wretched things with no feelings other than elation! And for his mind to be so specific in the doings, and the clarity of his imagination.

I was ready to burst into the bar right that very moment to take him out, but something stopped me.

_No,_ I said to myself. _Too many others, innocent. _So I waited and watched in the light snow for him to come out into the cold.

It didn't take long for him to exit the bar door. The man could have been noticed from a few blocks away as violent and drunk as he staggered down the steps, almost slipping. I let him take exactly seven steps before I attacked. I grabbed him by the waist and dragged him further into the darkness of the roughly-paved alley. I heard, with pleasure, a few of his ribs crunch under my grasp and the sound of my fingers pressing into his organs. I felt him wither in pain in the grip of my one hand. I wanted him to imagine what I could do with both hands.

With the same razor that I used to kill the Jensen imbecile, I cut open his chest. He screamed in agony as the razor slowly made its down from his collar bone to his respiratory cavity.

As I fed on his blood, I payed no attention to his incoherent thoughts. My hands pressing him down, I felt his body shake in shock and pain as he deflated, the blood in his body gone.

I stood and looked down at him, grinning at the sight and thought of the pain I must have caused him. In that moment, one word screamed in my head_. MONSTER!_

Not him, but me. What type of good-doing guy does _that?_ What God would send a man such as myself to kill and destroy?

_"The thief comes not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." John 10:10, as said by Jesus himself. _The biblical verse flew though my thoughts.

What had become of me! I had turned into the exact thing I was trying not to be, what I was trying to rid the world and humanity of. Had I really thought that I was Jesus, sent by God? Clearly, I was the thief he was referring to. I selfishly made myself into a man who lurked in the shadows, waiting for that kill, to destroy a person. I wasn't Jesus, setting the criminals straight, forgiving them for their sins, but I was the thief who needed such forgiveness, the abundant life. No, Carlisle was the Jesus figure in this ordeal, not me.

It was then, when I was walking at a human pace away from the fire I had started to burn the remnants of Haddix's body, that I decided it was time to return to Carlisle's way so I would no longer be a monster, taking human life, being selfish in that way.


	5. Isabella Swan

_Author's Note: Awww.. this is the last chapter. So sad... But it won't be the last of me! Nuh-uh! Thanks for reading it throughout the time and for reviewing. Special shout out to everyone who reviewed! Holaaaa! (That's the shout out. hehehe). Especially to _**_kerrybell _**_and _**_Elliptical_**_ who reviewed, I believe, to all four chapters! Whooot! Everyone else is just as awesome! Thanks a lot guys! (Oh, and hi to _**_Kayla_**_. HI!) Oh, and as for randomness, I wish I moved at lightning speed! NO! Vampire speed, because they totally move faster than lightning!_

_Disclaimer:__ I'm not impossibly fast and strong. My skin is not pale white and ice cold. My eyes don't change color (like Edward's do) and I don't sometimes speak like I'm from a different time. I don't never eat or drink anything. I do go out in the sunlight. And I'm not a (say it. out loud) Vampire. . . Noooor do I own _Twilight_ much to my dismay._

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**Five People Edward Cullen Has Killed: Chapter Five: Isabella Swan**

Once I had returned to Carlisle, I vowed to him and myself that I would never take another human life. A few years after my return and the guilt of killing those people, despite how horrid they were, still got the better of me. I didn't think that I would ever overcome the burden of emotions that came along with all of the people I killed in that span of a few years, but with the great help of my family, especially Esme and Jasper, I was able to go on.

Sure, decades later it would haunt me from time to time, but I was able to overcome it.

Jasper especially knew what I was going through. Not only because of his talent with emotions, but because he had killed many humans during his time--many more than me.

When he first arrived, after I got over the initial shock and frustration with the other, shorter and more annoying newcomer Alice, he told his story. We all had plenty of time to talk and get to know each other, seeing as we never slept. It was hard in the beginning, with him struggling and all, but once he was able to bear it, we--Jasper and I--were able to really talk. We probably helped each other more than anyone else did, with the possible exception of his wife Alice. We freed each other from the pain and regret that came because of killing.

To each other, we renewed our promises, once again, to never kill a human.

When Isabella Swan stepped into my life, though, I started spiraling. Fast. I'd never felt something so intense before. Her blood, her scent... it was all very threatening to me, the way it allured me. It was tempting me to lapse in my very strict diet once more--to break the promise I had made many times over.

But I didn't want to be a monster.

That was when I decided to leave. I ran off, once again to Carlisle and Esme's dismay. But this time I didn't run off to stalk and kill. This time I ran _away_ from killing. I knew that if I stayed there where Bella was that I would cause harm to her, if I didn't kill her the very next second I saw her and took in her scent, that is.

After an extended time of hunting mountain lions and what not, and after some coaxing from my family, I returned to Forks.

But I wasn't going to let myself kill her. I wasn't going to let Alice's vision of me turning her come true. Nor was I going to drain her small, fragile body of its warm-scented blood.

After a while, I worked up enough self-control and tolerance to her. But it was too late; I had fallen in love with her, and that was something my self-control couldn't keep me from. I couldn't stand the thought of being away from her. And so I didn't. I stayed as close to her as I could, whenever I could. I didn't intend on leaving her ever until the violent part of my world collided with her world and, with the help of her misfortune and luck, landed her in the hospital.

It was all my fault, her being in the hospital, all broken. From that point, I vowed to do whatever it was to keep her safe and it seemed to be the smartest idea to leave. As much as it would hurt, it would be for the best. This way she would be out of harms way and I wouldn't have a hand in her death, keeping my promise.

But Bella seemed to think differently.

She immediately rebuked my idea. The hurt I saw in her eyes--it made leaving her not worth it. So I was to stay for as long as time would allow.

But too soon, my world collided with hers once more. Something as simple as a paper cut put her in grave danger. Danger of once more being killed.

And, very much like the last time, it was my fault.

The saying _'the third time's a charm'_ haunted me after that night.

_I__ wasn't going to let there_ be _a third time_.

So I did the only thing I could do without killing her or her soul, or so I thought at the time. I put on my poker face and ripped a hole in her chest. And I left her. But I knew it was for the better. At least, I had to keep telling myself that.

The time apart was brutally painful to me. No number of distractions could keep her out of my thoughts. No matter how hard I tried, everything led back to her. Bella. My one and only, true, love.

It was eating me up on the inside. The pain was almost as treacherous as the fire that consumes your body during the transformation from human to vampire, mortal to immortal, only I'd go as far as to say that it was worse. The duration was longer, if not eternal.

And that was when I heard it from Rosalie.

Alice had seen Bella jump off a cliff and into the dark, ice-cold ocean water beneath her. And then her future disappeared. Bella was never seen to resurface, instead she drowned to death. Gone in an instant.

In response, I cried out in agony and withered to the floor, tearless sobs wracking my body.

Had I not left her! She wouldn't have died. She wouldn't have had to commit suicide.

In that moment my chest's hole ripped deeper and wider until it completely took over me.

I had planned from the first time she endured her near-death experience that if she died, I soon would too. And there was only one way I could properly die, only one plausible punishment for being Bella's cause of death. And that entitled my trip to Volterra to visit the Volturi.

Now, I stand waiting, in a shaded alleyway, the same setting of where I stalked and killed many of the others, awaiting for the clock to strike to reveal my God-like figure. The Volturi are so stingy on the rules, they'll have no other option than to kill me for breaking their precious guidelines.

So here I stand, eyes closed, hands out from my side, palms up, as if I were meditating. I stood, remembering all of the lives I took. I think of the people I saved by ending those wretched lives. I thought of my family, even, but never once about how this would hurt _them._ Just only of how I love them. How much they helped me.

But most of all, my thoughts were centered on Bella.

Thoughts and pictures of her jumping off that cliff fluttered through my mind. I could only imagine how the wind would feel brushing past her, how the water would internally suffocate her, the salt from the water being forced down her throat burning. I wondered what her last thoughts would be. Would they be of me? I shuddered at the thought of her newly pale, lifeless body floating down to the bottom of the ocean floor, pushed under by the waves and out to sea, only to be brought back up, face down, floating in the dark, lonely waters. If only that could be _me_ and not her. Never would I want her to have to experience such feelings, such experiences.

_Oh, Bella. My Bella. My love. I am so very sorry for what I put you through. Bella..._ I thought to myself as the clock's chimes rang through my ears.

Better, brighter thoughts flashed through my head in seconds. I imagined for the last time her rosy cheeks igniting upon my touch. I imagined her smile, her laugh. I smelled her smell, exuberant and warm. I envisioned her hair, the way it flowed down her back, over he shoulders. I relived the moments while she slept, hearing her whisper my name in her sleep. I listened to her melodious voice flow from her warm, full lips. The feeling of her gracious lips on mine. . .

When I heard her voice back, I was sure I was in my own personal heaven. And so I opened my eyes, searching out the eyes of my angel.

**And cue page 452 of New Moon!**

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_A/N: In case you missed that, Edward was in Volterra about to step out into the sun when the clock started chimed twelve so the Volturi would have no choice other than to kill him. That's when he was thinking of the people he killed, Bella included. Also, if you note, Bella said "His expression was very peaceful, like he was dreaming pleasant things." (_New Moon_, Chapter 20, page 451). So basically, it was meant to be that when she walked up, he was thinking of the good memories of her... incase you didn't catch that! I hope you did!_

_Natty_


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